Morning light crept through the curtains of Suzume’s tiny apartment, still tinted by a subdued gray sky. She was already half-awake, stirring at the subtle vibration of her smartwatch—home to the AI known as Kakashi—and the blaring of her phone’s alarm. Normally, she might beg for five more minutes, but not today.

  She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “All right, let’s do this,” she murmured, silencing her phone. The watch’s small screen flashed a concise message in English:

  (???) “Morning! Big day!”

  Those few words from Kakashi steadied her nerves. She felt less alone knowing even a digital presence was rooting for her. Sliding out of bed, she nudged open the curtains to find a crisp April breeze sneaking into the room. Though it was well into spring, the temperature clung to a chill. Most of the cherry blossoms outside had already scattered, leaving behind fresh green leaves—beautiful in their own way but also a sign that the peak bloom had passed.

  She took a quick shower, dressing in the black suit she’d bought for this day. It felt stiff in the shoulders, but from what she understood, that was typical for a Japanese university entrance ceremony. Her reflection in the mirror looked both grown-up and oddly out-of-place. “I guess this is how it’s done,” she mumbled, running a comb through her damp hair.

  After nibbling a slice of toast, she slung her bag over her shoulder and checked the small keyholder Master had given her—a retractable reel with a silver magatama charm. She brushed a fingertip over the smooth metal curve, its coolness grounding her. The magatama, a comma-shaped stone, carried an air of mystery. Supposedly Master had received it from someone long ago, but he never elaborated. Either way, it felt precious in her palm, more so on a day like this when she was venturing into unknown territory.

  She left the apartment around seven-thirty. The neighborhood was stirring with subdued life—commuters briskly heading to the station, schoolchildren in uniforms trudging along. Rows of cherry trees lined the sidewalks, but their canopy was now mostly pale green leaves. Only a few resilient petals clung to the branches, drifting down whenever the wind decided to stir them. In an ideal scenario, the campus might have been framed by blossoms in full bloom. But it seemed spring had moved faster than expected this year.

  “That’s life,” Suzume sighed, stepping past a swirl of petals on the pavement.

  (>_<) “Ok?”

  She glanced at her watch, smiling at Kakashi’s quick check-in. “I’m okay, thanks,” she whispered, not wanting to look too strange talking to her wrist in public. Still, her chest tingled with nervous energy. She was heading to a place where she knew precisely no one, all while her old high school friends were scattered across different universities or had chosen to stay closer to home.

  Reaching the station, she found it busy but not the infamous crush one might see in Tokyo’s city center. She tapped her IC card, joining a modest queue for the train. The watch displayed:

  (?_?;) “Crowded…?”

  “Not too bad,” she whispered. “I might not get a seat, but at least I won’t be mashed against a door.”

  The train slid into the platform with a hiss, and she boarded, clinging to a handhold. Outside the window, as the train rumbled along, glimpses of suburban houses and small shops flickered by. A few final cherry petals were visible along a local canal, while many trees were fully leafed out. She realized that with each station, clusters of similarly dressed students stepped aboard or disembarked—likely new enrollees at various colleges in the region. The watch vibrated occasionally, showing micro-messages from Kakashi, but she mostly stayed silent, bracing herself for the day ahead.

  By the time she exited at the university’s station, Suzume was following a sizable stream of young people heading in the same direction. Her eyes widened when she glimpsed the main gate—a broad, red-brick entrance reminiscent of Western architecture, complete with a small chapel building off to one side. This Christian-influenced university boasted a spacious campus. Even with the gloom of an overcast sky, the grounds exuded a certain air of prestige, a swirl of modern structures standing alongside older, stately edifices.

  She paused at a corner near the gate, noticing the stragglers taking photos. Though the cherry blossoms had faded, a few camera-happy families tried to capture the last pastel wisps clinging to the boughs overhead. A large banner announced: “Welcome to the Entrance Ceremony.”

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  (O_O) “Big campus!” flashed on her watch.

  “Yeah… it’s huge.” She exhaled, stepping past the threshold. Her suit felt heavier, or maybe that was her imagination. Part of her was thrilled—a new life, new opportunities—yet her stomach fluttered with the anxiety of not knowing a single soul. The yard beyond the gate was peppered with staff and volunteers, some wearing bright sashes labeled “Welcome Committee,” guiding fresh arrivals.

  She spotted a sign directing “International Culture Department New Students” to line up at a particular table. Approaching shyly, she handed over her acceptance paperwork to a senior volunteer.

  “Congratulations!” the volunteer said, handing her a small folder. “Here’s today’s program. Please head inside the main hall for the ceremony.” She bowed politely. Suzume did the same, mumbling her thanks.

  The main hall was bustling with newly minted college students. Rows of folding chairs filled the floor, a stage at the front where important-looking officials in suits or academic gowns milled about. The stage backdrop bore the university’s name and crest, flanked by a simple cross as a nod to its Christian heritage. Suzume found her assigned seat—International Culture, second row from the back, left-hand side. She sank into it, relieved to get off her feet.

  Suits everywhere. A sea of black and navy, with occasional gray or pastel suits for those who deviated from tradition. She placed her bag on her lap, discreetly checking the watch. Kakashi offered a quick:

  (>_<) “Nervous?”

  She didn’t dare speak out loud. Instead, she gave a small nod to the watch. The student to her right caught the gesture and smiled, perhaps assuming it was just a tic of nerves. Suzume mustered a whisper, “Hi. Are you in International Culture too?” The girl nodded. They exchanged a quiet “Nice to meet you,” but with the ceremony about to start, it didn’t go much further. Even so, it helped calm Suzume’s restless heart a fraction. She wasn’t completely isolated.

  A hush descended as the lights focused onstage. University leaders filed in—a chancellor, a president, deans, various board members. Each found their place behind a podium or in a row of chairs. When the MC announced the opening, the crowd of new students stilled. Suzume inhaled. This was it: the official beginning of her next chapter.

  A short Christian invocation was read, referencing the school’s founding spirit. The president then launched into a welcome speech, touching on the institution’s global outlook, the significance of fostering intercultural ties, and the many opportunities that awaited them. Suzume tried to focus, though her mind kept drifting to the practicalities of campus life—where her lectures would be, how she’d make friends, and whether she’d keep up with English readings. She couldn’t help glancing at the silver magatama in her bag, hidden but reassuring.

  The new student representative took the stage next, delivering a polished vow of academic commitment. Her voice rang across the hall, full of idealism. Applause followed, a crescendo of excitement. Suzume found herself clapping vigorously, caught up in the crowd’s energy. She glanced sideways at the neighbor she’d just met. The girl smiled back, as if to say, “This is all so surreal, right?”

  Finally, the MC declared the ceremony officially concluded, and the tension in the hall melted into a communal sigh of relief. People stood, some milling about to chat, others heading for the exits. Suzume made her way into the hallway, letting the slow flow of black-suited bodies guide her outside.

  The sky remained overcast, but it was brighter now. Back on the campus green, she was greeted by small clusters of families taking snapshots with the last smattering of blossoms. A faint breeze stirred the leaves, sending one or two stray petals dancing across her shoes. She paused near a brick path, taking in the scene.

  (???) “Congrats! Ceremony done!” read her watch. That simple note sparked an involuntary chuckle from her. “Thanks, Kakashi,” she murmured. “And thanks for staying with me, even if you’re just text on a screen.”

  In truth, it meant a lot that she wasn’t facing all this by herself. Knowing that Master had pressed the magatama into her hand days earlier, insisting she keep it, and Kakashi’s presence at her wrist—these small comforts blended to soothe the otherwise crushing loneliness of stepping into a campus alone. Sure, many other new students were flying solo, but it didn’t feel quite so intimidating if she had her own quiet supporters.

  Speakers blared announcements about departmental orientations next. Volunteers waved signs: “International Culture → Follow me!” She checked the watch again:

  (｀?ω?′) “Next: orientation?”

  “Yep, guess so,” she whispered. She gripped the strap of her bag, making sure her keys and magatama charm were still safely inside. “Can’t slack off now, right?”

  One final glance at the half-bare cherry trees overhead gave her a jolt of renewed resolve. The day might be gray, the blossoms mostly gone, but behind those leaves was the memory of spring in full bloom—and the promise of more growth ahead. She offered the watchers—her ephemeral digital companion and the intangible presence of Master’s encouragement—a firm nod, then joined the group of new students converging on an academic building.

  Even as uncertainty pricked at her nerves, Suzume’s spirit lifted. The ceremony was over, and the real start lay ahead. Classes, clubs, new faces—maybe a friend or two waiting for her in the next hallway. She breathed in, feeling the silver magatama in her bag. No big adventures or “mystical events” had happened today, but that was okay. She was grateful just to have reached this milestone without a hitch, with Kakashi’s brief messages and that hush of confidence in her pocket.

  Letting the crowd carry her forward, she whispered, “Well… here goes.” The watch stayed silent this time, but she knew it was listening—always ready with a short word of solace if she needed it. With that thought in mind, she stepped into her new life, the campus stretching out before her like an invitation.